


It's the Light of Day That Shows Me How

by bipedalpanda (jbird181), jbird181



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: 80's pop, Cricket, Driving, Fluff, M/M, Music Discourse, Nudity, Post-Episode: s02e08 And the Point of Salvation, Snow, The Librarians Shipathon, The Librarians Shipathon 2017, mutual crushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 00:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11657448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbird181/pseuds/bipedalpanda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbird181/pseuds/jbird181
Summary: It only takes a Backdoor failure, a Cricket Thing™, a snowstorm, an open door, and some 80's pop for Stone and Ezekiel to finally confront their feelings about each other.





	It's the Light of Day That Shows Me How

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from [Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fFn2LZGnMM). 
> 
> This was supposed to be crack, but then Jay started taking it seriously. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Everything we know about cricket comes from Wikipedia.

“This is Jenkins. I’m either away from my phone, or I don’t want to talk to you. Leave a message, and I might call you back later.” An automated voice takes over. “At the tone, please record your message. When you have finished recording, hang up or press one for more options.” Ezekiel’s phone lets out a strangled beep, and Stone discreetly steps back.

“Hey, Jenkins—nice voicemail by the way—Stone and I got the book, and we’re ready to leave whenever you’re ready to call us up a door. Not that there’s any hurry. Um… call me back you get this. Love you! Bye.” Ezekiel presses the End Call button and shoves his phone back into his pocket with a little more force than is necessary.

“Well, I guess we’re stranded here for the time being,” Stone says.

“Brilliant observation.”

“What’s up with you today?”

Ezekiel sighs, which Stone thinks is uncalled for. “If you must know, I’m missing the Ashes.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, Stone nods sympathetically for a full three seconds before realizing he has no idea what Ezekiel is talking about. “What are the Ashes?”

“What are the Ashes?!” Ezekiel sputters. “You might as well ask ‘What is the sun?’ ‘What is grass?’ ‘What is—”

“Is this a cricket thing?”

“‘Is this a cricket thing,’” Ezekiel snorts. “You poor Yank.” Stone sits down—this could take a while. “The Ashes is a series of games between Australia and our biggest rival, England. England won the last Ashes, so we have to destroy them this year, on our home turf! I’ve stocked up on snacks, hacked a satellite to avoid buffering, put my phone charger within easy reach: I was prepared to not move for five days if it comes to that. But now—” Ezekiel’s rant is interrupted by Madonna’s Vogue playing loudly from Ezekiel’s pocket. “It’s Jenkins.” They exchange hopeful glances. “Hello?” Ezekiel puts it on speakerphone so Stone can listen too.

“Ah, Mr. Jones. I’d love to open a door for you, if only to stop you from leaving more sarcastic voicemails, but unfortunately, the Backdoor is not cooperating.”

“What do you mean, ‘not cooperating’?” Stone groans.

There’s a staticky pause, then, “What was that?”

“Stone, you still have to talk into the speaker… no, not that close. Ugh, just let me talk.”

“What’s going on?” Jenkins asks.

“What do you mean by, ‘not cooperating’?” Ezekiel repeats.

“What I mean is it refuses to open to any location but Czechoslovakia. The Annex is off limits as well. I’m working on getting the Backdoor back up and running, but I’m not sure how long it will take.”

Stone groans again, this time joined by Ezekiel in a disgruntled duet. “Alright then, give us a call when you fix it, I guess. Bye, Jenkins.”

“Goodbye.”

Stone shows Ezekiel the map he’d pulled up on his phone screen. “We’re only two hours out from Portland. Why don’t we drive back there,” he suggests.

It’s beginning to flurry, and Ezekiel wishes he’d brought gloves. Going back to Portland is a better alternative than waiting around outside for an indeterminate period of time, so he agrees. They rent a car, and half-an-hour into the drive, Stone makes Ezekiel relinquish the wheel, because he keeps pushing the speed limit, and Stone is beginning to fear for his life. The snow is coming down heavier now, melting into rivulets on the windshield, and Stone’s forced to slow down even more. By the time they arrive at Stone’s apartment, the roads are coated in a slick layer of white, and the storm shows no signs of stopping anytime soon.  

Stone parks on the side of the road and turns off the car. “You should crash here tonight, Ezekiel.” When Ezekiel doesn’t respond, Stone adds, “Look, it’s not safe to drive in this weather.”

Ezekiel knows he’s making a bigger deal of this than it is. After all, Stone’s asking him to stay out of necessity, not because he particularly wants him there. But even so, it feels like they’re crossing some unspoken boundary, frightening but exhilarating, and Ezekiel is terrified of stepping wrong. “Okay,” he agrees. “Thanks.”

They head upstairs and he makes himself at home on Stone’s couch, splayed out in false bravado, searching hopefully for the channel showing the Ashes.

It turns out Stone doesn’t get Channel 9, the Australian sports network the game is being shown on. Ezekiel could’ve watched it streamed on a computer, but honestly, as he complains when Stone points it out, what’s the point?

“Look, man, It’s 11:00, I’m going to bed,” Stone finally sighs.  

“Alright, I’ll take the couch,” Ezekiel says distractedly, still flipping through the channels.

“No, no, you’re my guest, you can have the bed.”

“Okay,” says Ezekiel, putting down the remote.

That situation did not go how Stone imagined it in his head. Shaking it off, he grabs an extra pillow and blanket from the closet, kicks Ezekiel off the couch, and is asleep within minutes.

***

Ezekiel takes a deep breath, then breaks into a run over the invisible threshold, sprinting for the exit. Immediately the rage people charge at him. He kicks at one’s legs to knock it down, but more keep coming, an unstoppable tide, knocking him down. He needs—

His head cracks against the floor.

Ezekiel jerks up and flips himself over onto his hands and knees, groping under his pillow for the knife he keeps there, but he can’t find it. He curses and flings the pillow onto the floor. He needs a weapon, something, anything. Ezekiel scans the room and—

_Oh._

Ezekiel sits back against the headboard and digs his nails into his palms, trying to ground himself.

Breathe in (it’s over).

Breathe out (they’re safe).

Breathe in (it’s over).

Breathe out (they’re safe).

It’s soothing to be surrounded by a place so completely _Stone_. His room is patterned in earth tones, tan walls and forest green comforter and various landscape paintings. There’s a desk in the corner by the window, cluttered with papers, and a bookshelf that mirrors the one in the living room. It feels lived-in, and inviting.

Ezekiel wants to stay.

But he also doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, so he gets up, figuring he’ll say a quick goodbye and blast back to his apartment to freshen up and check if the Backdoor is working by now. He wanders out into the living room, but Stone isn’t there.

He isn’t in the kitchen either.

Really, it shouldn’t be this hard to find someone in an apartment with only four rooms.

Ezekiel retraces his steps, his chest feeling like an over-expanded balloon, stretched tighter with each breath. Where is Stone? He heads for the bathroom, but then, through the open bedroom door, Ezekiel sees it. Rooting through a dresser drawer completely naked is Stone’s butt.

And the rest of Stone, he supposes.

Ezekiel’s not quite sure how to react to seeing your friend and co-worker naked. Luckily—or unluckily, depending on your perspective—Stone turns his head and spots Ezekiel before Ezekiel has to decide whether to politely inform him that he isn’t wearing any clothes, or walk away and pretend he’d never seen a thing. (A thing being Stone’s naked butt.)

“What are you doing?!” Stone yells, frozen in a crouch like a startled raccoon.

“I didn’t mean to… You need to learn how to close your door!” Ezekiel shoots back.

“This is my apartment!”

“You know what, you’re right. I’ll just… I’ll just go.” Ezekiel turns around and hurries out of the bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him. This, of course, leaves him in a bit of a predicament, because, as he realizes, the pajama bottoms and t-shirt he’s wearing are Stone’s, and his own clothes are back in the bedroom with Stone.

(Really, it’s not like Ezekiel’s never seen an ass before. He’s seen plenty. He just wasn’t expecting to see one right then. That’s why he’s so flustered. Clearly.)

Ezekiel decides to cut his losses; he has other clothes back at his apartment. “Thanks for letting me stay, sorry I saw you naked, bye!” he calls through the door.

“Wait!” Stone cracks the door open. He’s wearing underwear now. “Let me drive you home.”

For some reason, Ezekiel fixates on the word _home_. His apartment is a place to live. It’s warm and dry; it’s a place to sleep, but it’s not a home. Not the way Stone’s apartment is.

“Nah, it’s fine, I’ll get a bus.”

“I insist. Just give me like five minutes.”

Stone’s eyes bore into his, and Ezekiel simultaneously wants to look away, needs to look away before the sincerity in those eyes makes him do something stupid, and can’t.

“And they say chivalry is dead.”

Stone laughs, and Ezekiel feels disproportionately proud.

***

The car ride to Ezekiel’s place is distinctly more uncomfortable than last night’s. Eventually Stone gets tired of the silence and says, “Look, about what you saw—”

“Your ass?”

“Yes, smartass.”

“Hey, I prefer badass.” They share a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“Um, okay. Good. Thanks.” Stone turns the radio to some god-awful country station and Ezekiel complains until he gives up DJ duty to Ezekiel.

“I swear, I need to educate you in good music.”

“Like what? 80’s pop?”

“You say that like the 80’s wasn't the best decade for music in recorded human history.”

Stone shakes his head, but he allows Ezekiel to play Whitney Houston without any further complaints.

Ezekiel’s belting out “I Wanna Dance With Somebody,” punctuated with directions, when his phone rings.

“Hello?” he sighs.

“Good morning, Mr. Jones. I assume you’re still with Mr. Stone.” Ezekiel opens his mouth to ask _why exactly_ Jenkins assumes that, unsure whether or not he should be upset, but Jenkins ploughs on. “I fixed the Backdoor, so whenever you two are ready, I can open a door to the Library. I just need your location.”

Ezekiel was still in the clothes he’d borrowed from Stone, yesterday’s clothes in his lap, and he could really use a shower, his toothbrush, and something to eat. “The Backdoor’s working now,” he explains to Stone, who gives a thumbs-up before putting his hand back on the wheel. To Jenkins he says, “Can you queue one up for us at like…” He checks the clock. “9:00? At the usual spot.” Ezekiel’s address is a closely guarded secret, one that, he now realizes, he’s sharing with Stone without a second thought. He’s giving Stone verbal directions rather than letting him put it in his GPS, but still.

“Alright. _Don’t_ be late,” Jenkins warns and hangs up.

“Turn left here.” Stone complies. “This is it, you can park over behind that red car.” Stone pulls into the spot and switches off the car, turning off the music in the process. Ezekiel unplugs his phone and twists the cord around his finger. “Thanks for letting me stay last night. You didn’t have to do that.”

Stone shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. I couldn’t let you drive in that storm.”

“Why not?” asks Ezekiel, not trying to be difficult, but honestly not understanding.

Stone laughs like it’s obvious. “Because I care about you.”

This is getting too close to a talk about _feelings_ , so Ezekiel tries to diffuse the situation, but his words come out bitter. “Right. Gotta look out for little brother Ezekiel.”

“It’s not like that,” Stone insists, clenching the steering wheel.

Ezekiel unravels the cord from around his finger and meets Stone’s annoyingly earnest gaze with a challenging stare. “Then what is it like?”

Stone makes a frustrated noise and looks down at the steering wheel like it has the answer to how he feels about Ezekiel written on it if only he can figure out the code. “I… I like you. A lot.”

Ezekiel freezes.

Now that the first words have forced their way out, the rest of the feelings Stone’s been bottling up burst through the tiny opening in a torrent. Stone’s body visibly relaxes with the relief of finally voicing what’s been building for months. “When I first met you, I thought you were this arrogant jerk, but now… you pretend, but there’s so much goodness in you, Ezekiel, and you’re smart, and beautiful, and you make me laugh all the time, and, and I just need you in my life, in whatever form you’re willing to give.”

It feels like the first time Ezekiel saw the Library. Like for the very first time, he was offered a glimpse of the world in its entirety, in full-color. Possibilities that were so ludicrous they had never been allowed to cross his mind were suddenly within his reach, and all Ezekiel had to do was take the first step.

“I want,” he chokes out. The inches between him and Stone feel impossibly far. Ezekiel wants _everything_. “I want to kiss you right now. Can I kiss you?”

“Hell yes,” says Stone, and then his hands are cradling Ezekiel’s face, and he’s kissing Ezekiel like he’s oxygen. Ezekiel feels something wound tight within himself release. He returns Stone’s fervor, gripping his shoulders like he might disappear if Ezekiel lets go.

It's not until they break apart, breathing hard, that Ezekiel feels the center console digging into his hip. He doesn't care.

Stone traces Ezekiel’s jaw with his thumb, and Ezekiel covers his hand with his own, laces their fingers together.

“I want you,” he says, taking the first step. “I want all of you that you’re willing to give.”

Stone kisses their intertwined hands. “I'm yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Frequently Asked Questions:  
> Q: Why did Ezekiel say “Love you” in his message to Jenkins?  
> A: Ezekiel is a little shit. 
> 
> Q: Why didn’t Ezekiel insist that he couldn’t take Stone’s bed when Stone was so kind to let him stay over?  
> A: Ezekiel is a little shit that’s afraid of rejection. 
> 
> Q: How _did_ Stone imagine the bed situation to go?  
>  A: Stone is a hopeless romantic who was hoping Ezekiel would argue that there was no way he could push Stone out of his own bed when he was a guest in Stone's home, and so Stone would suggest they share the bed, and maybe Stone would work up the courage to casually put his arm around Ezekiel, and they'd _cuddle_. And, you know, maybe Ezekiel would turn and look into Stone's eyes, and Stone would look back, and they'd lean in, and, well, we all know where this is going. 
> 
> Feel free to hit us up on [tumblr](https://jbird181.tumblr.com).


End file.
